


Right Kind of Trouble

by Sicklywrites



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Main story spoilers, Smut, not slow burn at all bc i'm impatient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sicklywrites/pseuds/Sicklywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know I said I wanted to travel with you so I’d get into trouble again, but I didn’t mean scare the shit out of me like that.” He said, leaning on the back of his chair. Hazel was still smiling, her eyes drifting over to his again.<br/>“I scared you, did I?” she asked cheekily, “Are you coming to care for your little excuse to get out of Goodneighbor?”<br/>“Hey, I always liked you.” He said, “The moment I heard you walk into Goodneighbor and tell Finn to shove his insurance up his ass… I knew we’d get along.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So… where you used to live, Sanctuary, huh?” Hancock asked, his arms folded across the ruffles of his coat, one ankle resting on his knee. He was leant back on the sofa in the Third Rail, Hazel sitting quietly next to him with a Nuka Cola in hand.

“It was Sanctuary _Hills_ when I was there.” Hazel answered.

“Weird seein’ ruins of something and knowing the person who lived there before it was a trash heap.”

She seemed pretty amused by that.

“Once we get that castle back for the Minutemen, I’ll be moving. I hate looking at it.”

Hancock smirked as she took a nearly _angry_ sip of cola.

“Here I was thinking you’d enjoy staying at your old house.”

She grunted almost in disgust.

“I didn’t mind it before... but after Shaun being... what he is now... I keep sitting in my bedroom and thinking about him as a baby in his crib, wondering when he’ll cry next.”

He nodded, passing his booze from one hand to the other so he could pat her on the shoulder. He remembered how she collected toys for him – toy cars, alphabet blocks, board games, little rocket ships, and even found each part to one of those Giddyup Buttercup things and put it together herself. He watched her slowly accumulate what looked like a normal child’s room, filled with toys, colourful blankets, and a crib waiting patiently to the side of the room. It looked – at least in Hancock’s eyes – kind of cute.

But then Hazel came back from the Institute, something he was worried she wouldn’t be able to do once that god damn machine zapped her into a glowing pile of dust. Luckily it worked, or at least, lucky in some ways. When she came back she was distant, which worried him. Not long after, he heard screaming and found her throwing the toys around the room and out the window, shattering glass. The last thing she threw was the lamp, which shattered into thousands of pieces on the floor; and so did she. She sat on her legs on the floor, hair crazily flipped to one side, and cried.

“I get it, Zee.” He said, taking a moment to rub her shoulder. Just for a second.

She guessed the reason he called her ‘Zee’ was the Z in Hazel. Sometimes she was Haze, Hazie – ‘ _Sunshine_ ’ when he was being either a smartass or a sweetheart – but mostly ‘Zee.’

“It’s not like I was living the American dream beforehand.” She said, taking a sip of cola as she tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m sure the definition changed some time in the last two centuries.” Hancock joked flatly.

“It did.” Hazel nodded, and then after a pause spoke again. “I loved Nate, you know? I thought he was a great father. A great _person._ But it never was… romantic love. Passion and skipping heartbeats. The only time it ever _was_ was the fling that lead up to it. Up to marriage.”

“So he was just a fling?” Hancock asked. He didn’t know much about Hazel’s husband – he didn’t even know his name was Nate until a second ago – but he was curious. “And he got you pregnant, right?”

Hazel nodded, staring off into the distance as she took a sip of cola.

“He wasn’t my husband, he was a friend. Those rings were more like friendship tokens than a symbol of our undying love for one another, and he knew it too.” She sighed and ran her finger around the rim of the bottle. “I still think it should have been him that walked out of that cryo pod alive.”

Hancock shoved her in the leg, scowling.

“Bull _shit_.” He grunted, “That’s a lie.”

She turned to him with her brow furrowed in anger but her eyes sad.

“If it was me holding Shaun when we stepped in, he’d be alive, maybe even sitting next to you right now.”

“Hey, you were _born_ for this shit. Nobody else from pre-war would have _ever_ been able to cop what you have.” He said, “I bet you my life that Nate would have stepped out of that vault and lived twenty minutes or less. But look at you, Sunshine. You’re thriving.”

She had never felt good about this situation until that moment, when for the first time it seemed okay. He was right. Nate was a sweetheart and a good guy, but she could easily imagine him panicking and falling victim to a group of molerats or something. Military or not, he would never have made it to the power armour, the minigun, and the pure adrenaline of killing that giant irradiated lizard.

She sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“That actually made me feel better.”

Hancock smiled.

“Good. I’m glad.” He said, putting an arm over the top of the sofa. “You deserve to feel better. All the shit you’ve been through.”

Hazel yawned and leant into the sofa, stretching her toes out in her boots. Magnolia walked up to the microphone in the corner, and immediately Hazel was taken. The woman sung beautifully, her delicate fingers around the mic stand and her hair falling gracefully around her face.

Hancock knew how much Hazel was taken with her voice the moment she began to sing. It was the way her eyes sparkled in a way that made him think everything was just A-OK. He smiled again.

_I see you lookin' 'round the corner,_

_Come on inside and pull up a chair,_

_No need to feel like a stranger,_

_Cause we're all a little strange in here…_

_Have you got a history that needs erasing?_

_Did you come in just for the beer and cigarettes?_

_A broken down dream you're chasing?_

_Oh, I'm just the girl to make you forget._

* * *

He was lost in the daydream of her sitting there under the neon signs that night when the landmine went off with a loud bang and a great explosion of dust and shrapnel. It had been a long damn time since his mind had gone into such a panicked state of _shitshitshitshit—_

He almost fell over his own feet turning the corner into the cloud of dust, calling out _“Zee? Zee!?”_

She was on her ass, grasping at her shoulder and scowling in pain.

“John!” she called, and although he couldn’t completely see her, he stumbled forward until he was knelt down at her side.

“Didn’t lose any limbs?” he asked in a panic, eyes darting all over. She shook her head, eyes shut tight and teeth bared. He saw why. A scrap piece of metal, thick and sharp, had blown into her and cut right into her thigh. A great, bloody slash was left on the side of her thigh, soaking the cut in her jeans. She shook out the ringing in her ears and looked up at Hancock.

“Fuckin’ hurts…” she grunted, and with that his arm was around her, helping her up.

“You right to stand?”

“Just a bruise.” Hazel said, looking down at the wound. “I can practically fly.”

If he wasn’t so worried about her bleeding out – _or getting a blood infection, or falling and hurting herself further, or not being able to run away from something watching them –_ it would have been funny, but all he wanted to do was get her out, and he would. He _would._ He had to.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, wrapped an arm underneath her knees and lifted her up. Like a princess, he thought briefly, before he carried her the hell away from any more danger.

* * *

“Let me the hell inside the city, asshole, she’s hurt!” Hancock snarled. A few more guards appeared, guns in hand, but the first they’d encountered stared Hancock down.

“No ghouls inside these walls.” He said sternly, his hands tight around his rifle like a warning, or perhaps fear.

Hazel leant against Hancock, becoming pale and listless, black spots dancing in her vision.

_“At least take her!”_

It was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.

* * *

“You wakin’ up, Sunshine?”

Hazel stirred, pain throbbing in her thigh. It was an immediate reminder of what had happened.

“Diamond City, right?” she mumbled.

“Yeah.”

She opened her eyes, but they were too blurry to see. She closed them and yawned, gently feeling for the wound.

“Stitches?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause, Hazel trying to open her eyes every now and then. Once she finally did, she looked over to the figure beside her. Hancock, clearly, but with a bandana around his neck, a ushanka hat on, and a large leathery coat over the top of his red uniform. She blinked in confusion, as if it were her imagination.

“If you’re wondering about the outfit, it’s because of the whole no-ghoul thing.” He smirked, “One of the guards snuck me in an outfit. He was pretty proud of himself that he didn’t have anything against ghouls. He also thought you were pretty.”

That last part was a lie, it just came to mind. He sighed and grabbed her glasses from the table beside her.

“Here, you’ll see better.”

She slipped them on and looked him over once more, then smiled.

“You look funny when you’re not dressed all historical.”

“Stop talkin’ about _me_ ,” he said, “Are you feeling okay? Need some painkillers?”

“I’m fine, John.” She assured him, though the pain was flooding back. She looked around, recognizing her surroundings as being a room in the Dugout Inn. They must have stitched her up and dumped her. She was too tired and foggy to ask.

“You can take the dumb hat off.” Hazel smiled, rubbing her eyes. Hancock laughed with relief, pulling it off his head and dropping it to the floor.

“So I can put my other dumb hat on?”

She nodded, grinning.

“It suits you, though.”

“You’re damn right it does.”

He stripped himself of his disguise and sat back down beside her, running his hand along his bald head. She thought his skin looked a lot like beef jerky.

“I know I said I wanted to travel with you so I’d get into trouble again, but I didn’t mean scare the shit out of me like that.” He said, leaning on the back of his chair. Hazel was still smiling, her eyes drifting over to his again.

“I scared you, did I?” she asked cheekily, “Are you coming to care for your little excuse to get out of Goodneighbor?”

“Hey, I always liked you.” He said, “The moment I heard you walk into Goodneighbor and tell Finn to shove his insurance up his ass… I knew we’d get along.”

Hazel chuckled to herself.

“And then you stabbed him.”

“…Yeah.” Hancock shrugged, playfully guilty. There was another pause. “But really, Zee, it only takes one landmine a little closer to you and then your legs are flying in different directions and you might be a little lighter to carry, but you’re also a little deader, too.”

She thought it was funny, but flattering. He really did care, even if he hid it away in purposely awkward flirting and backhanded, smartass compliments. _Lookin’ good for a smoothskin, Sunshine._

“You’re at that same risk, Hancock.” She warned him, “Who says I don’t worry that it only takes one bullet through your thick skull to have you dropping dead?”

He licked his lip and thought for a moment, eyes concentrated on her.

“Now who’s the bonding one?” he teased, “Look out, she’s showing affection.”

If there was something nearby to throw at him, she’d throw it.

“I can only tolerate your ass for so long before it becomes endearing.” She said, putting her arm over her eyes. He laughed and stood from his chair.

“Just rest up, Zee.” He said, pushing the chair back into place at the desk. “We’ll get the hell out of this city and back to Sanctuary, huh?”

“First thing tomorrow, if you can carry me.” She said, smile peeking out from under her arm. He shook his head and opened the door to leave.

“Righteo, Sunshine.”


	2. Chapter 2

Although she hated to see her old street as a shanty town, there _was_ something homier about it now than there ever was before. Preston at the guard tower with his laser musket in hand, random settlers from all over the Commonwealth coming together to work hard and make a safe and comfortable place for themselves, a farm that branched out two houses long, a single Brahmin happily lying down in the dry grass… weirdly, it was still home.

“Sanctuary, the home of the Minutemen!” Hancock was murmuring sarcastically to himself, lagging behind as Hazel limped forward up the road, closing in on her house. “And the wonderful _Hazel Denton!_ Sole survivor of Vault 111 and soon-to-be saviour of the Commonwealth, and _vanquisher_ of the Institute!”

Hazel smiled, looking over her shoulder at him.

“You right there, mumbles?”

He smiled back wearily, looking tired from the trip.

“Just thinkin’ bout ya.” He said, and then his eyes widened in panic, his exhaustion gone for a moment. “I mean— _no_ , just… I meant to say I was…”

He stopped, scratching at his cheek nervously. Hazel turned around to hide her blushing and stepped towards her front door.

“You know, I’ll just be… watching out, or something.” He said, making excuses. Ever since the upper floor of bridges and watchtowers had been made, he spent a lot of time on that old patio chair looking up at the sky. Sometimes he fell asleep there, so much that the chair was referred to as his bed more often than not. Hazel sighed and gestured for him to come in. She wasn’t going to let him waste his time up there again.

“Come on, eat something.” She said.

“Not hungry.” He lied.

“Hancock, come on. You’re just going to sit on that chair and get high again.”

He laughed.

“You know me too well.”

She grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“At least have a beer with me.”

He shrugged, sitting down (flopping down) on the couch.

“If you insist.”

“I do.” She said, throwing a bottle at him and then falling purposely on her ass beside him. The radio was playing in the other room, music playing distantly. This was far too close to how he realised it, – _I’ve got it bad –_ when they were sitting in Goodneighbor drinking and listening to Magnolia. Little had changed since then, apart from a great wound on her leg. He still felt his heart racing for her.

She was lying back on an old pillow, feet up on the couch. Her big toe stuck out from a hole in her sock and there was old blood staining her jeans, and somehow through all that dirt and grime she was still as beautiful as he imagined she looked before the war – like those posters of graceful women in waist hugging sequin dresses. _Damn._

“Do you _like_ me, Hancock?” she asked, the cap to her beer popping off and bringing him back to Earth. He looked at her as if he might not have heard her properly.

“Course I do, I wouldn’t be hanging around if I didn’t. You’re a good person.”

She shook her head, frowning.

“You know what I mean.”

He felt his cheeks burning again.

“Like… _like?_ ” he mumbled.

“I mean… have you ever thought about it. Like just let it slip into your mind? And then the idea of it just… isn’t so bad.” She said, eyes wandering off before returning. When she looked back at him he thought he’d just been hit by a grenade. “Simply put, have you ever thought of us as more than this?”

He swallowed, lips twitching.

“Is it that obvious?” he laughed, terrified. Her cheeks were red too now, and when she smiled and looked away he _knew._ She wasn’t just asking so she could politely let him down, she was asking because she felt the same. He rested his hand on her knee and looked at her from under the brim of his hat. He was going to say something but her striking eyes had him speechless again. By the way her lips moved and how she leant forward, he guessed she was going to say something too.

She held him by the ruffles of his shirt and pulled him into the kiss. _God damn_ her lips were soft. Everything was soft. Her gentle hands on his chest, the slowness of her breathing… he guessed that’s why she leant forward.

He leant closer, running a hand from her knee down her thigh and pulling her to him. He felt bad in the back of his mind, a ghoul’s lips must be so disgusting to kiss; but she didn’t seem to mind. She wrapped both arms around his shoulders, tilted her head, and before he knew it she was cuddled up to his side, and they both started giggling against one another’s lips.

“You’re spoiling the moment!” Hazel scolded, laughing loudly with her arms remaining around his neck. He leant into her and kissed her cheek, then her ear.

“Let me fix it.”

He grabbed her by the ass and moved her to straddle him, and by the way she continued to giggle after she gasped, he allowed himself to grin. She took his hat and put it on her own head, looking down at him proudly with half lidded eyes before leaning close enough to press her forehead to his. He happily wrapped his arms around her waist, the warmth between them incredible.

“Do I have to ask if you like me, too?”

“You can if you’d like.” She smirked.

“Well then, Hazel,” he said almost formally, “Do you enjoy my company, here, on my lap, while I very quickly get a hard on?”

She burst into laughter with a loud snort and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“That’s not how you do it!” she cackled. His laugh was raspy and rugged but she loved it, and cuddled up to him gladly.

“I’m not very good at this.”

“Mmm…” she hummed, taking his face in her hands, “Yes you are.”


	3. Chapter 3

Hancock woke on his mattress in the house neighbouring Hazel’s, and he was sure what happened the night before was a dream. Surely she wasn’t insane enough to kiss him. _Surely_. But his lips tingled and he smiled, and yes, it was real. It happened.

He stood, rubbing his eyes and grabbing for his hat. He turned to the mirror to adjust it, thinking absently how he needed to fix up his hair, and then laughing inwardly at himself. There his face was in the murky reflection of the mirror, cracks in the corners. He looked at himself for a while, reminding himself that the face in front of him was his. He sighed.

“Gross.”

* * *

Hazel stood at the weapons workbench, every now and then looking over her shoulder as discreetly as she could just in case Hancock had gotten up. It was a disappointment every time he wasn’t there, and she scolded herself for being so juvenile.

Adjusting the scope on her pistol, she bit at her lip and mumbled. The damn thing had been just slightly out.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

Hazel nearly jumped out of her skin, the loose scope snapping way out of place.

“Shit, Hancock!” she said, her body coming down from the scare. He laughed, his smile incredibly handsome.

“I thought I’d sneak up on ya.” He said, and leant on the workbench with one hand, the other on his hip and his ankles crossed. “Did it work?”

She glared at him, smiling.

“How’s the leg?” he asked.

“Hurts, but it’s fine.” She answered, “I’ve had worse.”

“Mmm… I know.” He nodded, “When you came into Goodneighbor for the first time, you had that burn on your forehead and your jaw.”

He leant over and brushed her hair out of the way. The scars were still there, to her they looking horrible. She winced, hating the way they looked, but Hancock was smiling quite contently as he ran a finger along the rough skin of her jaw.

“A bit of ghoul skin, hey?” he joked. She smirked back at him.

“Almost.”

There was a long pause where his smile came to fade.

“You know, if you want me to fuck off, just tell me. I get it. Maybe the painkillers you were on had you high enough to kiss me.” He said, “I won’t be offended. Just tell me to leave you alone.”

She looked more shocked – and a little offended herself – than he expected.

“Don’t be stupid.” She growled, “What would make you think I’d do that?”

He shrugged, knowing exactly why she would.

“Look at me, Zee.” He said, gesturing to his face, “You sure you don’t want a smoothskin kissin’ you? You could have anyone you wanted. You’re gorgeous.”

As flattered and simultaneously embarrassed as she was, she tensed up her shoulders and argued.

“You make me laugh, Hancock. You’re funny and you’re sweet and when you smile it’s… _really_...” She paused, blushing again. “…I mean, really handsome… your smile.”

He scratched at the collar of his coat and chuckled, looking away.

“Flatterer.”

“You’re doing it now!” she announced, subconsciously stepping a little closer to him.

“What?”

“The smile!” she laughed, “That lopsided smirk thing you do, you big dork.”

His hand reached out for her a little before returning back to his side nervously.

“You’re good to me, Hazel.” He said, tempted to cover his smile in embarrassment. She took his hands and brought him closer, kissing him twice on the cheek, one closer to his tempting lips than the other.

“I _promise_ you, not for a second did I think about you being a ghoul when I was on your lap... kissing you… holding you close.”

He swallowed and brought a hand to her hip, the curve of it magnificent.

“I wasn’t thinking about it when I was fantasizing about you, either.” She added. He swallowed harder, feeling fiery hot in the face.

“Good lord, stop talkin’ like that.” He said, taking in a great breath. “I’m going to be walkin’ ‘round with a hard on all day – and I have dignity to keep!”

She snorted in laughter. His honesty and openness was endearing.

“No you don’t.”

He snickered and held her hip a little tighter, his fingertips digging into the fabric of her jacket.

“You’re right, I don’t.”

Pulling her closer and pressing against her, she could feel his ‘honesty’ bulging beneath his pants. She grinned and tilted her head, teasing him with unintentionally fluttering eyes.

“So…” he sighed, “This is your last chance to run and hide from me.”

She shook her head and leant up to him, taking his lips to hers with a hand on his neck and thumb on his jaw. _I guess that’s no,_ he thought. _She’s not going anywhere._

His happy sighs of pleasure were music to her ears, her heart drumming along in excitement. His tongue was soft and gentle and a perfect tease, expertly leaving her wanting more as each second rolled by. The time they spent in that moment seemed both long and too short, broken off by a loud gasp. Hancock and Hazel separated immediately, turning to the sound.

“Called it.” Deacon said, arms crossed over his chest and a smug smile on his face. Something about the sunglasses made him seem even _more_ smug. From the look on Piper’s face, Hazel guessed she was the one who gasped.

“Damn it!” she grunted, burying a gloved hand into her pocket.

“What—” Hancock began, before Piper threw a handful of caps into Deacon’s open palm.

_“Shit.”_ Piper huffed in frustration. “I honestly thought it’d take longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut next chapter I promise ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Sunshine.” Hancock said, his smile audible through the husky tone of his voice. Hazel was already smiling back when she looked to him, standing pretty majestically in the moonlight. “Up on the roof by yourself? That’s what I do. One of us is gonna have to change.”

He approached her, wrapping an arm around her casually, enjoying the beautiful way she laughed.

“Hello to you too, John.”

“You’re the only one who calls me that.” He sighed happily, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Looking for company?”

“I might be.”

“Good, because there’s not much you could say to get rid of me.”

He let her go and sat down on the plastic patio chair looking over Sanctuary, sighing as he leant back comfortably. She went to sit down on the chair across from him – an ash tray and empty bottle on the table between them – before he swept his leg across the floor and kicked it off the roof through a gap in the railing.

_“Whoops.”_ He said, smirking. “Now there’s only one seat left.”

She glared at him, smirking herself.

“Are you suggesting we share?”

“I’m not suggesting a thing.” He said, shaking his head. She approached him with the unintentional but very appreciated sway of her hips, and he hummed in arousal, hand running down his knee. She sat down on his lap, careful not to hurt him until he pulled her to him impatiently.

“Hey there.” He grinned, lips on her ear. God, his voice had her shivering.

“How you going?” she said almost jokingly. He rested his hand on her thigh and ventured gently upwards, giving her all the time in the world to refuse him – but she didn’t even consider it.

“I’m fine, you?”

She leant against him, an arm around his shoulders.

“Great.”

He stared her down with half lidded eyes and a smirk on his face while his hand continued metaphorically tip toeing up her thigh.

“How about now?”

Though the feeling of her racing heart in her throat she managed to respond.

“Keep going, and I’ll have all kinds of things to say.”

He pressed his lips to her ear and then to her cheek in gentle pecks, adoring the softness of her skin.

“Mmm, and I want to hear ‘em.”

She giggled, embarrassed at the giddy noises coming out of her mouth.

“You’re a big flirt, Hancock.”

“You say that like I’m bluffing.” He whispered, his lip running along her ear lobe as his hand finally reached the apex of her legs. She tensed in the dim pleasure of wanting more, her fingernails digging lightly into his shoulder. They sat there for a while, Hazel horribly conscious of her every movement. Someone would see them up there, surely. His hand would be hidden behind the railing, but it wouldn’t take much of an imagination to guess what he was doing.

“So…” she smiled, “…You’re not just doing this to get into my pants, right?”

He looked a little offended, but his smile kept up.

“No, but if this little feel-up is working, I’ll gladly take the bonus.”

She laughed and kissed him slowly, her hands passing through the ruffles of his shirt and onto his chest. He almost panicked. The idea of her suddenly coming to realise the skin on his face was the same _everywhere_ and then running off on him… it had him worried, but she didn’t flinch.

“Do you want to find a room with proper walls or just do it on the roof?” she grinned, her teeth peeking out from behind coloured lips. His eyes widened in shock and he stared at her for a moment.

“What, you actually want to do this?” he asked, just to make sure. She laughed as her hand wandered up his neck.

“The feel-up is working.”

“Ha—alrighty then, Sunshine,” he grinned, “I’ll have you _wherever you like_.”

* * *

Nobody saw Hazel and Hancock walk across the street hand-in-hand, Hazel in front and Hancock a few steps behind with a foolish grin on his face. That said, Hazel’s expression was much the same.

He was so giddy with enthusiasm he forgot to shut the door until she swung it shut with her foot, giving him the eyes as she did.

“Bedroom eyes, I like it.” He said, following her – with his fingers between hers – down the hallway. She turned into the bedroom, backing up to the bed and laying down, pulling him down with her. He climbed over her, his jacket falling at his sides and his hat tipping off his head. She smiled at him dreamily, taking his hat and putting it aside.

“You sure, Sunshine?” he asked, voice quiet and loving. “I don’t want you screaming when I take my clothes off.”

“Hey, you have to _earn_ my screams.”

“Oooh, _clever,”_ he snickered smugly, lowering his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms comfortably around his neck, finding him pressing his hips to hers. Between her legs spread enough to fit his body she could feel his arousal.

He leant up for a moment, taking her glasses from her face and putting them on his own.

“Just need my reading glasses.” He said cheekily before finding the zip of her jacket. She laughed as he unzipped it, making a sound effect as he went. She slipped her arms out smoothly, throwing it aside. Underneath she wore a white cotton singlet, the outline of her bra showing through. He hummed, nodding appreciatively while he slid his own jacket from his body, letting fall into the pile they were starting.

Her look of seduction had his senses tingling. She was undoing his belt before he knew, slipping it from his pants with very adventurous and lingering hands. He knew just from the subtle movements of her fingers that she really wanted this.

“You’ve thought about this before?” she asked, undoing his buttons.

_“Impure thoughts.”_ he reminded her – it was something he said once when she playfully flirted with him. Admittedly, she was a little drunk and he was a little high, but they both remembered well enough; even if it felt like a scene plucked out from another life.

He crawled downwards, taking her belt and pants down with him until they were around her ankles. Her legs were breathtaking, and everything he had imagined when he was having those _impure thoughts._ She seemed self-conscious when he scanned her up and down, so he gave her a smile as he curled fingers around the corners of her underwear.

“I like the freckles.” He smirked, kissing her thigh. Her self-conscious expression faded into laughter, and then into a gentle gasp as he kissed downwards from her navel. She was momentarily confused before he had his teeth on the elastic of her underwear, taking them off slowly with a toothy grin on his face. Half way down her thighs he switched to his hands, flinging them away as soon as they were off.

“Damn,” she huffed quietly as if talking to herself, “I’m intimidated _and_ aroused.”

Hancock seemed smug at that, kissing up her thigh again, spreading her legs as he took off her glasses and set them down. He pressed his tongue teasingly to her slit, one hand sliding flat over her stomach underneath her singlet, the other holding her leg out so she stayed spread.

“Sh-shit, Hancock, I’ve—”

He looked up nervously, his tongue still desperate for what it was so close to getting. His heart sunk at the idea of her finally realising what was going on and kicking him out.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

“Nobody’s ever…”

His smile returned, almost sinister.

“Really?”

She nodded admittedly.

“Do I have your permission to be the first?”

She smiled back at him.

“Only if you want to.”

He shook his head, teeth peeking from his grin again.

“Oh, I want to.”

Without breaking eye contact he slowly lowered his mouth to her and unravelled his tongue, parting her wet lips with a gentle upwards motion. She shuddered, clawing into the sheets. When the tip of his tongue hit that little bud he was looking for, her knuckles turned white and her eyes broke from his.

“ _Jesus!_ ” she cried out, legs parting by themselves. He smacked her ass with one cheeky motion, getting a whimper out of her. She could feel his smile against her heat. Even that was a turn on. He lifted his mouth from her for just a moment, running his two fingers between her lips and circling her entrance with his middle.

He let out a deep, gravelly sigh; “God you’re so _wet._ ”

Before she could respond he was on her again, lapping at her increasingly sensitive clit. Her heart was racing rapidly out of control and her hands so tight they were numb. She ended up blindly grinding against his incredible tongue, rocking her hips erratically at the brink of an orgasm.

“J-John, you… _ah—_ ”

With his hand on the plains of her stomach he could feel her tensing, so very close. He briefly wondered whether he should let her or not. Be a tease… or no? She moaned loudly, thighs tensing.

“You want it, Sunshine?” he asked, fingers replacing his tongue for a moment. They seemed no match. She nodded rapidly, biting into her tongue. “You really want it?” he asked again, this time not touching her at all. She moaned in desperation, looking at him with great big puppy dog eyes. He grinned at her for just a second before returning his mouth to her clit, going faster and faster, grabbing so tight onto her thigh she might have bruise by morning. Her hips lifted from the mattress, desperate for that release he was so happily bringing to her.

The noise she made when she came was something between ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ but not quite either of them entirely. He didn’t mind, because the feeling of her coming undone beneath him had him high as a kite.

While she lie there catching her breath, he took the chance to take his remaining clothes off. He looked momentarily down at his body, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he did. He almost groaned in disgust. _Fuckin’ ghoul_ , he reminded himself. He sighed, a little disheartened. _At least I got one orgasm in before she ran away,_ he thought, and crawled back up over her.

She opened her eyes to him and he expected her happy ‘I-just-came’ smile to disappear in an instant. Instead, she looked him over at the realisation of his nakedness and took his cheeks into her hands.

“Fancy seeing you here.” She whispered, and tilted her head into a soft, deep kiss. _She didn’t mind._ She looked down after breaking the kiss to take her singlet by its bottom and roll it upwards and off, slipping it over her head and letting it fall off the edge of the bed.

“Well would you look at that.” Hancock said, eyeing her breasts. “Mark me down as your number one fan.”

She laughed, her breasts bouncing a little. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, bending down to kiss them. He peppered kisses over the mounds of her breasts, across the edges of her bra and down into the valley between them. Her torso raised, giving him the chance to slip a hand underneath her in an attempt to undo the last bit of clothing between them. He felt it click as the clasp come undone and moved it out from under her, slowly savouring the release of her breasts. She happily slingshotted it away, revealing everything to him.

“Aw,” he said as if looking at something cute, “You’ve even got tit freckles!”

She giggled and kissed his neck, one hand at the crook of his neck. He took the opportunity to put his mouth to her ear, breathing in her scent for just a moment.

“I wonder what they taste like.”

He laid her down flat again, kissing her lips, then her chin, neck, collar bones, sternum, and then so very softly he took a nipple into his mouth, his free hand brushing a thumb against the other. She squirmed underneath him, moans caught in her throat for a second. She felt the vibrations of his slow, smug laughter through his tongue, and God did she love it.

“You’ll be the end of me, Hancock,” she moaned, pressing her hips up against him, one leg hooking around his waist. She could feel his erection pressed to her thigh and rolled her hips just enough to tease him. He _definitely_ noticed, giving her a stern, appreciative look before he switched to the other nipple. Once again her breath had completely failed her.

He moaned against her nipple, shoulders tensing.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said quietly in an aroused murmur, “I can’t believe I’m here right now.”

She grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back, straddling him before he could fight back. He looked up at her, dazzled and in love, and was even more shocked to find her wandering downwards on his body with that devilish grin on her lips.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he breathed, “You sure you want it up close and personal? I mean they’re ugly as it is but being a gho—uuaa _hhh!_ ”

His head rolled back with pleasure as she took him into her mouth, hardly any warning. He was almost certain for a second there that that was all it would take for her to finish him off, but he contained himself – though the sound he made she would have loved to have recorded just to tease him about later.

“I am _way_ too lucky,” he huffed, ever so slightly rolling his hips into the rhythm of her mouth. And jeez, the way her tongue lapped at his tip, lips gently sucking, hand caressing everywhere her mouth couldn’t reach… _mmm._

She stopped, kissing it a couple times before crawling back up him. As much as he would have happily had her down there forever, he knew she was expecting a ride before the night was done – and _that_ he would gladly give to her.

His hands found the perfect curves of her hips, and for the first time they had made that pure, loving eye contact. That white hot lust was gone for just long enough for both their hearts to skip a beat.

“Christ, you’re beautiful.” He said, thumbs rubbing feeling up her soft, freckled skin.

“You’re a flatterer.” She said, resting her body on her forearms and kissing him once more. “Now, before you get too emotional…” she joked, wiggling her hips.

“Oh, right, I’m getting laid.”

She burst into laughter as he positioned himself, chuckling because of all the music he’d ever heard in his life, her laughter was the best of it.

Slowly and carefully she sunk down onto him, letting out a sigh and a moan as he tested the waters, pressing into her deeper and deeper with each cautious thrust.

“Stop being so cautious,” she grinned, eyes lulling shut. He found it funny, since he was considering rolling her onto her hands and knees and reaming her from behind. He had a funny feeling she would have liked it.

“Be careful what you wish for, Cheeky.”

She rolled her hips long and hard against him, groaning out in pleasure with each motion. He practically turned into putty – except for one vitally hard part of his body – and found himself moaning along with her, out of breath and sweating. He noticed the glistening beads of sweat on her, too. It was a hot night in more ways than one.

She bounced playfully, experimentally, and revelled in the expression on his face.

“You like that, John?” she said a little more _dominant_ than she expected. He groaned loudly, thrusting into her at a fast and eager pace.

She would have been lying if she hadn’t thought of what his face would look like at a moment like this, but the thought had passed as he changed his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot as he dug his fingernails into her hips. She moaned and squirmed, riding his bucking hips like a rodeo. She was there again, tipping precariously over the edge, and then that _noise_ he made... it had her. She squealed into her bitten lip and came all over again, throbbing around him. And as evident, that had him falling over the edge too.

He went silent, riding out the pleasure with his jaw hanging open. She breathed heavily, slowly rocking against his erection.

“I think my legs died.” He said, audibly out of breath. She giggled, her toes tingling.

“I think _I_ died.” She added.

“And went to heaven?” he asked, eyes opening mostly to capture the amused disappointment from that stupid line.

“If this is heaven, take me now.” She grinned, rolling off of him and collapsing at his side, arm over his chest.

“My legs will meet you there.” Hancock laughed, “The rest of me will probably be in hell. I’m a dirty, dirty man.”

She stretched like a cat, tired and relaxed, a content smile on her lips. With equally tired eyes he admired the smoothness of her skin and the delicate movements of her fingers. There was also something incredibly hot about how many times those fingers had pulled the trigger on some asshole’s life.

“Last chance to be honest with me, Zee… you don’t just have a ghoul fetish you’re getting out of your system, do you?”

She glared at him, her smile never fading.

“No, John, I do not have a ghoul fetish.” She said, “I promise you on my life, I like _you_.”

He didn’t seem content with that.

“Swear it on Dogmeat’s life and I’ll believe you.” He started chuckling, “I know how much you love that dog.”

She nodded, nestling up beside him once more.

“I swear on Dogmeat’s life, I love you—”

Silence came crushing down on them like an atom bomb.

“I… didn’t mean to say that.” Hazel said quietly, just about ready to crawl up into a ball of embarrassment. With his arm around her, Hancock froze.

“Did you, uh, mean it?”

“If I did?”

“I’d blush a whole lot.” Hancock said, eyes wandering around the room. That was partly a lie, since he already was. She scratched her neck awkwardly.

“I mean…” she started.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna. I can forget it.” He interrupted.

Hazel hid her face in his chest and made a frustrated noise, muffled in his skin. God, she was adorable. When she looked at him again she seemed as if she might cry out of fear.

“I love you, Hancock. Ghoulishness and all.” She finally admitted. A smile cracked slowly but surely across his flattered face.

“You’re not pulling my leg, are ya?”

“It’d be pretty cruel if I was.”

He laughed giddily and grabbed her, pulling her close into his tight, ecstatic embrace. Like a kid he wrapped his arms around her head – not her shoulders, but her head – and wriggled excitedly.

“I love you, too!” he announced, “I love you, Zee!”

They laughed together in that tight embrace (once Hancock had released her head from his arms, happy to find that she found it funny), bedsheets tangled around them. He would remind her late at night when they were falling asleep in one another's arms, spent from acting on impure thoughts, that all that karma stuff is bull, because no one like him should be this lucky.


	5. Chapter 5

Hancock was completely certain he had woken up still tripping. It had happened before, and it often had to do with Hazel. He’d wake up from dreaming about her, and then something in his head let him know she was actually there. The disappointment when he realised she wasn’t was always the same – a sunken heart and a deep sigh. But then he rolled onto his side this time, stretching his arms out to wake them up, and touched her side. His heart skipped a beat.

“Well, shit, look who stayed around.” He said so quietly he was sure he wouldn’t wake her up. Without opening her eyes she simply said:

“It’s _my_ bedroom, Hancock.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead, snuggling up against her. She opened her eyes, fluttering her eyelids prettily, and smiled up at him before giving him a warm and welcome kiss on the lips.

“How do you know I didn’t want _you_ gone?”

“Well, you just kissed me, if that’s any indication.”

He seemed so very smug, so unbelievably happy to really be there with her. He was truly adorable. He hummed into her hair and wrapped his arms loosely around her.

“You’re one hell of a woman, you know that?” he said, resting his chin on her head. She found it funny how comfortable he was with her, and had absolutely no argument against it. She would gladly stay here for the rest of the day, should the world permit it.

“I guess I did a good last night, then?” she teased, nuzzling into his warm chest. He nodded, so very pleased.

“I wasn’t talking about _that_ , but I mean… yeah. _Hell_ yeah.”

She laughed, a little embarrassed. After a moment, just as she was drifting off to sleep, she felt his finger brushing against the tip of her freckled nose. Her eyes opened again briefly.

“What are you doing?” she asked, already being lulled back to sleep.

“You have such a cute nose.”

She smiled, and he felt it on his chest.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I have nothing to be jealous of. I’ve got every good thing in this god damn wasteland cuddled up to me right now. The world should be jealous of _me._ ”

She looked up at him with those gorgeous dark blue eyes.

“You kissing my ass for any particular reason?” she asked, laughing off how flattered she was and hoping he didn’t notice her blush. He smirked and shook his head again.

“I think the world of you, Sunshine. I’m not speaking a word of a lie.”

She rested her head back down on him and ran her hand along his chest, each lump, bump and imperfection in his leathery skin not a problem in the slightest. He was perfect, somehow.

“And if I said the same about you?”

He leant back, smug again, while his hand ran along her naked back.

“Somehow I’d be even happier than I am right now.”


End file.
